


You Can Only Remember What You Want To Forget

by SanVulpecula



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coffee Shops, English, Ex-Girlfriend, F/F, Poetry, Slam Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-27 00:10:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6261379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SanVulpecula/pseuds/SanVulpecula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angie is surprised to see someone from her past at a coffee shop's spoken poetry night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can Only Remember What You Want To Forget

**Author's Note:**

> Title from The Things I regret by Brandi Carlile...yes how gay of me.

It wasn’t really her choice but she was a good friend, she owned Gloria so she followed along with her desires. Coffee shops and listening to amateur poets was more of Gloria’s things than Angie’s but Angie did owe her one…that was something she had to continually remind herself after every doubt she had today. The thought of having to smell coffee for another couple of hours after already serving it for eight hours straight was enough to make Angie want to just throw herself onto her bed in a dramatic huff but she squeezed on jeans and a cute button-up before heading out the door to catch a cab to the coffee shop several blocks away, one she could have walked to but after being on your feet all day you really could care less about the cab fee.

She was let off at the corner and made her way inside to see Gloria already in line for coffee. She turned and grinned at Angie as she made her way over.

“Hey hun, I’m so glad you could come!”

“Not like I had much of a choice,” Angie mumbled as Gloria stepped up to the counter to order a ridiculously complex latte to which Angie internally scoffed at.

Gloria stepped over to the “Pick Up” counter as Angie ordered a simple sweet iced tea.

“So I Glor, don’t get me wrong, I love poetry and all but I don’t understand listening to angsty twenty year olds wallow in their seemingly miserable lives.

Gloria chuckled while grabbing Angie around the shoulder to squeeze her into a hug, “Oh Ang, there are actually some talented people that perform here. Not all of it is complaining about first world problems, I really think you’re gonna like it more than you think!”

“Whatever you say!” Angie said as Gloria grabbed both of their made drinks off the counter. They both made their way down the steps to the dimly lit basement of the coffee shop where there were about thirty or more chairs scattered around tables and placed in any open space available. Gloria went to the few open seats towards the far left wall, weaving in and out of people in floral skirts, plaid button-ups, and bearded faces. Angie just chuckled and made a promise to never date anyone that hipster nor ever be caught dead in a skirt that looked like it was used on the _Little House on the Prairie_ set.

There was a small 3’x3’ platform behind a microphone at the opposite end of the basement where Gloria and Angie were sitting sipping their drinks. There was a single spotlight over the platform while the rest of the basement was illuminated by scattered Edison lightbulbs. Whoever was performing would have the knowledge that they could be easily seen but could barely register the faces of the people sitting past the first few rows.

“So when’s this thing start?” Angie placed her drink under her seat and took out her phone to examine the time.

“Hmm should be about 7pm. What time is it?”

“6:59,” Angie put her phone on vibrate and put it back in her pocket.

“Oh okay, wait here we go. That guy standing up owns this place,” Gloria whispered into Angie’s ear.

The short man who stood up sported a red beard and bald head looked to be in his forties, “Welcome ladies and gentlemen and everyone in between! Thank you so much for joining us for our monthly amateur spoken poetry night! Woo!”

Everyone gave a round of applause and a few hoots and hollers.

“So we already have an order of people who will be going tonight but after they have all gone we will allow walk-ups after the intermission where anyone from the crowd can come up to the mic. So let’s get started, first is Mikey Hester!”

And so the set list of sorts began, Angie didn’t expect much but after the first few people made her genuinely laugh out loud, she was enjoying herself. She forgot about how tired she was and began to anticipate every performance. About twenty minutes in, a skinny black guy went up and stood silent at the mic for a few seconds looking over the crowd.

“Pig,” He finally spoke into the mic then proceeded to make the most authentic sounding pig oink Angie had ever heard out of a human. The crowd broke out in laughs.

“Tiger,” he guy then imitated the snarl of a tiger so closely it made you almost believe you were in the jungle. The next five minutes consisted of people yelling out the names of animals to him for him to mimic. It was probably Angie’s favorite performance of the night so far she decided after her face started to hurt from smiling so much. The performer finally sat down to the loudest applause yet.

Next a young brunette woman stood up from the first couple of rows and made her way to the stage. Angie was bent over, trying to grasp her tea from under her seat when she heard Gloria audibly gasp. Angie sat back up and looked at Gloria in confusion, “What!” she whispered loudly.

Gloria’s eyes were blown wide and all she could do was point in the direction of the stage. Angie turned her head and stared intently past heads and saw the brunette now standing behind the mic, adjusting it to her height. Angie paled and her heart started beating to fast she almost could have convinced herself she was having a heart attack. All she could think was _Fuuuuuuuuuck_.

“My name is Peggy Carter,” the crisp voice bounced off the low ceiling and made the girl on the other of Angie whisper to her boyfriend how much she loved British accents.

Angie knew this woman behind the mic, knew her quite well but it had been years since they had seen each other. Peggy Carter was Angie’s college girlfriend, they had dated for nearly two years when Peggy graduated and the long distance became too much or at least that was the short and sweet version Angie explained to people after they broke-up.

Peggy still looked the same besides her hair being shorter, above her shoulders in chestnut waves. Angie just stared, hands shaking as the British woman closed her eyes and took in a large breath before beginning:

_Now I want you close your eyes and imagine two people_

_Graying around the roots, hands tightly wound, fingers inner-twinned_

_They sit on a pew with tears streaming down their lightly weather faces_

_Their eyes have seen things only a life time of experience would allow_

_They look to the stage in front of them and see a wooden box_

_Perfectly sanded, polished, intricately designed_

_This handiwork you would be proud of if it wasn’t being used for something so…practical_

_The box has a lid which remains in place_

_84 inches long and 28 inches wide_

_The two people, husband and wife, continue to look on at stage where a man dressed in robes stands with a book in his hand, speaking out to the group all sitting in identical pews_

_There’s a grey hue covering this spectacle, color washed out of the room_

_Next to the casket is a portrait of a young woman_

_Smiling, ignorant to why all these people are gathered here_

_Her face is kindred to the two people in the front row_

_Eyes of grey, hair of chestnut_

_Tears still seep into the afternoon_

_Keep your eyes closed and imagine a woman, blonde hair in ringlets cascading around her shoulders and neck_

_She stares into the mirror in front of her and grins_

_A long white train of lace is behind her as she leaves the room_

_Bouquet in her hands as she marches to Canon in D_

_Everyone rises and smiles at her as she makes her way through the pews_

_For a moment the scene is the same: a man in robes stands on a stage, book in hand but this time his face isn’t one of despondency_

_The room is a vibrant shade of yellow, squeezed lemon dripping its last breath_

_As the woman makes her way to the left of the stage, a tear rolls down into her mouth_

_It’s salty but the taste doesn’t echo how she feels as she turns to her right_

_She sees the face that has blessed her dreams of the future_

_The face that knows her most intricate thoughts and knows her deepest depths_

_Eyes of grey, hair of chestnut_

_The two women grasp each other’s hands and the service proceeds as if all was right in the world_

_At one point the blonde glances to the empty front row but quickly turns her gaze to her lover’s smoky eyes_

_Where there’s smoke, there’s fire_

_The casket is taken out of the church, held up on the shoulders of four men_

_The grey hue gets a shade darker as the husband and wife, elbows locked, make their way to a darkened car_

_Rain spits at their pain, covering their heads with mockery_

_The young couple run hand and hand down the steps as rich petals of crimson and honey shower them in joy_

_The sun shines bright on their day of celebration_

_Grinning from ear to ear they jump into the convertible waiting at the curb to take them away_

_The husband and wife slide into the dark car parked behind the hearse_

_Then it begins, the procession makes its way to the graveyard_

_The casket is lowered, words are said, flowers are placed, dirt is thrown_

_The graying parents take one last look at the marble tombstone before they turn around and leave their daughter’s life behind_

_“In Loving Memory_

_July 17 th, 1989-May 6, 2015”_

_Tin cans clatter on the asphalt as the convertible leaves the church’s grounds_

_Grinning from ear to ear the women share a kiss as the brunette handles the steering wheel_

_They come up on a graveyard and see a graying couple walking, elbows linked, away from an open grave; a grayish hue covers the scene_

_The blonde grabs her lover’s chin and pulls it around to face her_

_She smiles again and kisses the brunette’s nose_

_They drive off, with the bumper crudely painted:_

_“Just Married!”_

 

The poem had been spoken more like a story with Peggy never lifting her hands off of the microphone stand. The woman next to Angie was sniffling as the poem ended. The audience broke into applause as Peggy finally loosened her grip and allowed her hands to hang at her side as a shy smile creep onto her face. One guy toward the front stood up and clapped the loudest of anyone for Peggy’s performance, this made Angie rolls her eyes knowing full well it was probably an overzealous boyfriend. 

Peggy cleared her throat as the applause died down and began her next poem:

_I kind of regret never saying anything to you_

_To tell you now would be futile_

_I suppose I should have let you know_

_That your hair was like a never ending waterfall that drowned my sorrow_

_The grin of a million Christmas nights at the Rockefeller Center_

_Hands made of sinew snapping along to the beat of my heart_

_I really regret never telling you that I wanted to love you for a trillion life times_

_I would be reincarnated into a being whose sole purpose was to worship every breath you took_

_I could capture every tear you shed into a bottle and cast it into the sea_

_So that one day I may find it again on the other side of the world_

_That would be the shortest distance I’d go to see your face again_

_I’m the reason I’m alone now_

_And I shall regret never telling you_

_I loved you_

 

Now it was Angie’s turn to sniffle. She had begun tearing up after the fifth verse; she knew who this poem was about. Peggy had written this poem right after her and Angie had broken up and had sent it in the mail to Angie. Angie had read it a million times, if you would had asked her a year ago she probably could have recited it by memory but time went by and the poem was forgotten, put in a journal Angie only opened to make herself cry. Angie never did reply to that letter and she never received another one in the years that followed. She didn’t know what to say back to the poem because at first it had just made her angry with the past tense verb usage in the final verse, Angie still loved Peggy whether Peggy’s feelings were now only in the past.

The curvy English woman stepped off the platform after her applause and made her way back to her seat. After which the coffee shop owner called for an intermission and reminded people of the open mic resuming in fifteen minutes. People began to stand up, stretch and make their way upstairs to get a refill or use the bathroom. Angie stayed perfectly still staring at the crowd, not focused on anyone in particular, more lost in her thoughts than ever. She suddenly jumped when she felt Gloria’s hand on her forearm; she turned to her with a blank stare.

“You okay hun?,” Gloria said to Angie with the scrunched eyebrows of genuine concern.

“Yeah, just a blast from the past,” Angie chuckled as she wiped under her eyes to get any mascara that had smeared down with her tears.

Angie suddenly stood up, looked down at Gloria and said she would be right back then made her way slowly through people to the rows closer to the platform. She scanned through the faces and finally saw the one that made her heart jump to her throat.

Peggy had her back to Angie and was talking with a couple people who looked to be congratulating her for her performance. Angie heard the crystal clear laugh come from her former lover and it almost made her eyes brim with tears again. Angie stood a few feet back from the group Peggy was in and waited patiently for them to move away so Angie could engage with her. She waited for a few minutes when Peggy finally bid the enthusiastic fans farewell and turned around. Peggy stepped forward and stopped when she suddenly met Angie’s calm stare.

Peggy dropped her purse suddenly, “Angie?”

“Hiya English,” Angie grinned without teeth at the beautiful woman now only a few feet from her.

“How..Why are you here?” Peggy stuttered out as she picked up her purse and stepped closer to Angie’s petite body.

“A friend dragged me here. Never in a million years would have thought you would ever perform your poetry. I always knew you were talented Peg, but this is something else. You performed really well and people seemed to love ya!”

Peggy grinned shyly, “Thank you! So how have…how’ve you been? It’s been a long time!”

“Sure has English. I uh, I’ve been good. I live here in the city now, working away!”

“Are you acting still?”

“Yeah, here and there; was in a commercial a few months back but in the in between I’m waitressing till I get my big break,” Angie put on her big fake smile she usually only reserved for customers.

“That’s great to hear Angie!” Peggy smiled back, “Are you staying for the open mic after the intermission?”

“Uh I don’t know, depends on my whether my friend wants to stay or not. How ‘bout you?”

“No, I must get home. I have to work early so I usually bale around this time.”

“I understand. Well it was really good to see you English. Uh, if you live in the city and want to, we should catch up soon.”

Peggy stared seriously for a second, turned around to look at the man behind her that was engaged with someone, and looked back at Angie, “Yes I would like that very much.” She pulled her phone from her purse, unlocked and gave it to Angie to input her phone number. Angie quickly typed in her information and saved the new contact.

“Well just text me sometime and we can get lunch or coffee one day. It was good to see you by the way; you still look good as ever!” Angie winked at Peggy and turned on her heels so she didn’t catch the blush that covered Peggy’s cheeks.

Angie made her way back to Gloria who was nonchalantly playing on her phone while still sitting in her seat, “Oh don’t even pretend to be playing on your phone. I know you were watching us the whole time!”

Gloria laughed as she set her phone in her pocket, “Well I had to make sure you were okay, a girl’s gotta look out for her best friend!”

“Yeah Yeah well I love you too but I really wanna go now!”

“Understandably,” Gloria stood up and started following Angie to the stairs, “So everything went okay?”

“Yeah I’ll tell you about it when we get home.”

Gloria and Angie walked in silence back to their shared apartment. Angie replayed the conversation and whole evening back in her mind till she set foot in their living room and was able to plop down on the couch.

“So you okay Ang?”

“I gave her my number and told her we should catch up sometime soon then I winked at her as I said bye. I’m such an idiot. I don’t want to see her, I don’t care how she’s doing, I don’t wanna hear about her stupid happy life!” Tears started to stream down Angie’s face as Gloria sat beside her and pulled Angie close.

“I know honey, I know. It still hurts! If she does message you, you can just blow her off until she gets the picture you’re not interested in hanging out or you could just never message back.”

“But the sad thing is…I kinda wanna see her. I have this hope that her life has sucked without me in it for a past few years and she can’t stay in relationships because she’s still in love with me. I know it sounds stupid but I don’t know…I still miss her. I miss that stupid beautiful thick hair and her stupid hot accent,” Angie began sobbing into Gloria’s shoulder.

Gloria just sat there and comforted Angie until her sobs turned into silent tear streams.

“Just think about that you want honey, you have plenty of time to decide whether you really want see her or if you think it’ll just bring back old memories and things you’d rather leave in your memory bank!”

“Okay,” Angie sounded like a small child as Gloria released Angie and went to the kitchen to get her a glass of water.

“Thank you, I don’t deserve you!” Angie said as she took the water from Gloria’s hand.

“No you don’t but hey, I don’t deserve you either. You were there for me when Jack dumped my ass!” Gloria laughed as she started to strip her socks off as she headed to her room. She turned around once she was in the door way, “Get some sleep Ang! Tomorrow’s a brand new day, with no mistakes in it!”

“Okay Anne Shirley!” Angie said sarcastically as she got up from the couch and headed to her room.

Gloria was right though, a goodnight’s sleep would do her well. Tomorrow she’d figure out what the hell to do about Peggy Carter.


End file.
